First Impressions
by GloriaNewt
Summary: A one-shot describing what happened when Mildred first came to Cackles to take her entrance test- will she be accepted, or will Constance Hardbroom get her own way over the matter? It's all down to Miss Cackle..


**First Impressions:**

**Author's Note: This is a little one-shot prequel to the first episode of the Worst Witch that I wrote whilst brainstorming ideas for the Epilogue of my other story You Can Run, But You Can't Hide. I wanted to explore how Mildred first came to Cackles. Please review and make my day!**

Bobo, the battered, elderly Citroen 2CV pulled slowly onto the cobbled courtyard of Cackle's Academy, immediately attracting a swarm of curious girls who ran to surround the unusual sight.

"Good luck Millie" her mother smiled gently across at her young daughter who sat twisting her fingers nervously. She reached across; pulling slightly at the uneven plaits in a vain attempt to make them more even so that they did not look quite as haphazard as usual. She thought that first impressions were always so important, and concluded that the same rules would apply in both the mortal and supernatural worlds.

"Just remember Millie, everybody at home is so proud of you and your abilities, you are truly unique amongst the family and this is where you belong, where you deserve to have the chance to develop your skills- don't let anybody take that away from you, sweetie".

She placed a light kiss upon her scatty daughters head, praying for once that her overwhelming nerves wouldn't prevent her from demonstrating her creative abilities.

"Go now, I'm not allowed to go in with you; I'll be waiting for you here with a massive hug regardless of what happens!"

"But Mum, what if I'm no good, what if they don't want me?" Mildred questioned anxiously, feeling the knots twisting tighter in her stomach as she surveyed the sight of the older girls swooping effortlessly overhead on broomsticks in awe, wondering if she would **ever** be capable of such an elegant display. Clumsiness was, unfortunately, her middle name.

"Sshh, Milly, don't talk yourself out of this, it's all that you have wanted since Miss Cackle contacted us". Her mother soothed her quietly, running her hand in small circles upon her daughters trembling back.

Mildred smiled back weakly- Yes! She could do this- she tried to convey this positive message to her shaking legs that felt as if they had suddenly turned into a particularly cowardly variety of jelly.

"Thanks Mum" she said, returning her mothers kiss before climbing unsteadily out of the rickety car to join the growing queue of nervous looking girls upon the other side of the courtyard.

xxx

Ethel Hallow descended gracefully from the blazing blue sky, sitting comfortably on the back of her mother's broomstick, evidently well-practised with and familiar with the traditional arrival at Cackles.

As they landed she looked up at the revered old buildings of learning, observing in detail for the first time the sacred seat of knowledge that various witches in her family had inhabited for decades. She would not fail in continuing their proud academic tradition of high achievement.

Her mother turned to her to wish her good luck, reminding her that with her family ties to the school, the interview that she would have to undertake would be a mere formality.

She marched briskly across the cobbles, her head held high, critically observing her competitors that formed the straggly line by the main door, scanning for any potential rivals to her abilities or claim for a place at the establishment. A pathetic looking lot of people, they probably wouldn't cause her much trouble, she concluded quickly. Her eyes fell upon a flame haired witch who was standing slightly separate from the other girls at the back of the queue; a slightly disdainful look was fixed on her narrow features.

"Drusilla!" she waved at her distant cousin. It had been years since they had last set eyes upon each other, the last occasion being when Ethel had inadvertently turned Drusilla's hair shocking pink when an attempt at one of the spells that she had found contained in her mother's prized spell-book that she had been forbidden to touch had gone awry.

"Ethel!" Drusilla smiled back. At least there was a familiar face here, somebody to be her friend from the off.

xxx

Precisely upon the stroke of eleven o'clock from the single, small bell in the castle tower, the heavy door swung upon to reveal a plump, short witch with flyaway grey hair, angular glasses were propped upon her nose framing blue eyes that twinkled with joy at the sight of the potential new students in front of her, a beaming smile was spread across her kindly face.

"Welcome to Cackle's Academy girls!" she articulated clearly, at once spreading an aura of caring concern for those gathered nervously in front of her.

"My name is Miss Cackle, and I am the headmistress here-"

She was cut off by a volley of surprised, high-pitched screams from the girls as a tall, thin figure clad from head to foot in black materialised suddenly without prior warning from thin air next to her upon the stone step.

"And my name is Miss Hardbroom, deputy headmistress of Cackle's Academy" the mysterious woman's ringing tones announced, her arms folded in a business-like manner across her bony chest, index and little fingers extended sharply. The warm atmosphere disappeared in an icy blast, leaving an uneasy silence, generated by the terrifying woman who now stood in front of them.

Mildred gulped in trepidation, her heart still thumping uncontrollably in her chest. This was not a woman to be crossed.

Miss Cackle took a moment to smile in greeting at her authoritarian colleague before continuing with her welcoming speech.

"As you will be aware girls, there are reasonably stringent entrance procedures behind securing a place at this school. You are all to be congratulated most heartily for showing the ability to be invited for interview here today. Cackle's prides itself on producing witches of the highest calibre of magical ability. All those who show potential and ability will be considered, regardless of the presence of magical background or not. Those of a non-witch background will, however, be asked to sit a short skills test in addition to the interview, so that we can ascertain if you will be of suitable material".

She took the chance to look reassuringly at those standing in front of her.

"Please remember girls, this is as much an opportunity for us to get to know you as it is for you to get to know us. Cackle's is a friendly school where a caring family atmosphere is shared between every single member of its community".

Mildred smiled amusedly to herself; the imposing witch standing next to Miss Cackle had nearly shuddered in horror at that analogy! Millie was struggling frantically not to let out a suppressed laugh at the thought of the aloof Miss Hardbroom treating the pupils as her extended family- impossible images swam inside her mind, tickling her insides with a metaphorical feather, daring her to express her bottled hilarity. Unable to control herself any longer, she let loose a snort of laughter that she frantically tried to conceal as a hacking cough, causing Miss Cackle and her peers to look at her in worried concern at the thought that one of their number was inexplicably choking to death.

It didn't fool Miss Hardbroom for a second. Her lip curled menacingly at she surveyed the child that was in near hysterics at her reaction to Miss Cackle's speech. She shot an icy look at the tall, lanky girl that stilled any laughter in its withering path, reducing her to terrified silence.

"Are you quite alright dear?" asked an alarmed Miss Cackle, "Mildred Hubble isn't it?"

"Yes Miss" whispered Mildred quietly, now completely devoid of mirth following the contemptuous look that Miss Hardbroom had sent her.

Mildred Hubble. She would remember that name, Constance Hardbroom resolved to herself. No student ever had the gall to laugh at her; they learnt to treat her with the utmost respect from the minute that their hob-nailed boots touched upon Cackle's soil. She cleared her throat and summoned a black clipboard into her hands, ready to give her announcement.

"All girls from magical families please proceed to Miss Cackle's office to await your interviews, all girls from non-witch families, please step forward and follow me to the potions lab for your aptitude test."

One trembling girl stepped forward unwillingly, her eyes focused permanently on the grey cobbles in front of her.

Mildred.

Constance sighed wearily, "Follow me"...

xxx

Mildred was almost running to keep up with the brisk strides of Miss Hardbroom as she negotiated the maze of unfamiliar corridors in the castle. Finally they reached their destination and Miss Hardbroom unlocked the potions lab door with a key from the jangling bunch that she always wore around her narrow waist- the only accessory that she permitted herself to wear.

Dozens of gleaming, polished cauldrons that adorned the rows of antiquated wooden benches swung into view, the unfamiliar smell of various potions ingredients hanging heavily in the dusty air.

"Sit" the single word fell from Miss Hardbroom's lips as she extended a slim finger towards the stool that sat directly in front of the teacher's desk.

Mildred walked to her place, breathing deeply in order to try to steady herself.

"Begin". Constance flicked her wrist. A test paper and writing implements appeared on the bench in front of Mildred and a roaring flame sprang to life underneath the nearest cauldron. Another point of her casting fingers and a large hourglass appeared on her desk, golden sands trickling slowly into the collecting bulb beneath.

"You have one hour". She paused, a flicker of sympathy for the terrified girl sat in front of her passed through her. "Good luck, Mildred Hubble".

With shaking hands, Mildred opened the paper and surveyed the questions in front of her.

_**Cackles Academy Entrance Exam**_

_**Question 1: (General Arithmetic -10 marks)**_

_What is 4293 divided by 53? Display __all__ working out._

_**Question 2: (Basic Potions-25 marks)**_

_The following ingredients are to be used in making a simple potion to change the colour of a leaf from green to red. Concoct the potion and use upon the laurel leaf supplied._

_Spiders eggs (a small amount)_

_Crushed Cochineal beetles (no more than 15 recommended)_

_Lake-water collected in a full moon_

_Newts eyes (no more than 6)_

_Ginger root (sliced thinly in equal circles)_

_Add all ingredients, one at a time with the exception of the ginger root to the cauldron, stirring continuously to avoid the ingredients congealing. Heat for 5 minutes before adding the sliced ginger roots in small quantities. Simmer, but __**do not boil**__ for a further 5 minutes. Add drop by drop to the leaf until the desired colour is reached. Marks will be awarded for a satisfactory colour change and the composition of the overall potion._

_**Question 3: (Additional Skills-25 marks)**_

_Compose a short tale of your personal choice that reflects your knowledge of the magical world as well as displaying a creative flair. Word limit: 1500 words._

_**Time allowed: 1 hour**_

Her heart sank as she was confronted with long division. She had never been good at maths. Her mind went blank as to the method needed to solve the problem left her head, all mathematical knowledge draining away in one fleeting moment of pure panic.

"Calm down!" she told herself frantically, "You can do this!"

She decided to return to the division if she had time remaining. Her heart thudding painfully in her chest, she scanned the list of ingredients for the potion in bewilderment- spiders eggs? Newts eyes? It must be a little like cooking, she reasoned, adding the right ingredients in the correct quantities at the right moment. Tentatively she gathered the ingredients that she needed, firstly crushing a small handful of beetles with a pestle and mortar, then selecting six staring newts' eyes, a small scoop of spiders' eggs and decanting some of the glistening lake-water into a glass vial. Alright so far... she comforted herself- perhaps she could do this after all? She tipped the prepared ingredients into the black cauldron that sat next to her, stirring slowly, keeping a close eye on the time. She gasped suddenly- the ginger roots! Frantically, she continued stirring with her left hand whilst attempting to focus on slicing the root with her quivering right hand, the uneven pressure causing her to mutilate the ginger into jagged pieces that best resembled fifty-pence coins. Mildred bit her lip worriedly, still, the five minutes were up, and she now had to add the ginger whether she liked it or not. The potion hissed, changing to a bright, glowing red as the missing ingredient was added. Now to simmer for five minutes. Three hundred seconds dragged agonisingly by, an eternity passing between each as Mildred focused on maintaining a constant heat underneath her cauldron. How odd it would be, she mused, to leave the average, run-of-the-mill secondary modern that she attended to come here, to a castle, a school of witchcraft! Her friends would **never** believe her, even if she told the the truth...

Jets of steam hissing angrily from her boiling potion brought her back to her senses from her daydream- stinging droplets of liquid being fired in all directions. She extinguished the flame underneath, cursing her wandering mind. The ruined potion, now a dark, muddy colour, lay in a curdled mess at the bottom of the cauldron. Tears of disappointment and shame trickled down her face as she surveyed her fatal error. A faint sob escaped from her, causing Constance Hardbroom to look up inquisitively. She swept over to the crying girl and glanced at the disastrous attempt at a potion that sat in the cauldron. She tutted and turned to Mildred.

"Not quite what was asked for, I don't think Mildred?"

"No Miss," whispered Mildred.

"Still, I think we should test it all the same".. Miss Hardbroom conjured a dropper from thin air and took some of the potion into it, releasing it onto the waxy surface of the laurel leaf that lay forgotten on the bench. Instead of the leaf changing to a beautiful burning red, holes bored into the leaf where the droplets fell, as if concentrated acid had been poured onto the surface.

"Hmm, well".. Constance pursed her lips and walked away.

Mildred put her aching head into her hands, crushed by disappointment- she'd let everyone down, just as she secretly knew she always would. Hopeless as ever. How could she possibly contain a drop of magic in her blood? Witches had always seemed to be the epitome of grace, courage and control to her- "everything that I can't and never will be able to do" she thought sadly to herself. What was the point in continuing when she hadn't scored an entire point on her paper? Still, as she read the guidelines for the third and final question, she finally felt a glimmer of hope. Ideas began flooding into her mind and she began scribbling away, conscious of the fact that she only had 10 minutes of her allotted time remaining. Unleashing her creative energies on the task set, an idea of a two-headed giant swam into her mind. Seizing the idea, she set about fleshing out the detail, adding her own humorous twist to the situation, becoming thoroughly absorbed in her own little fantasy world, becoming one with her characters, exploring every minute detail of their personalities, recounting their story for them.

Constance watched on, impressed secretly by the resolve that the girl was showing. Many non-witch girls had made similar mistakes and had dissolved in a bawling wreck upon the bench. Not this girl. From somewhere she had found the resolve to continue. Definitely not the material for Cackles, incapable of following the simplest of potions or completing a basic maths task, but still, showing an iron resolve when many others would have fallen by the wayside.

"Time's up Mildred". Her ringing tones interrupting the silence that hung in the room that had only previously been punctuated by the sound of Mildred's pen scratching frantically upon the paper in front of her.

Mildred sighed and placed her pen down on the wooden desk, watching on as Miss Hardbroom pointed her fingers at the paper, causing it to zoom over to her waiting, outstretched hand.

"Thank you Mildred, you may go now", she allowed the briefest glimpse of a smile to invade her composed features before vanishing into thin air.

Mildred walked out of the room dejectedly. She sank onto the wooden bench beneath the potions lab window and allowed the final reserves to fall away, sobbing as her dream of becoming a witch died in front of her.

"Hey, hey, what's the matter?"

Mildred looked up to see a slim woman with short spiky blond hair, dressed in a royal blue tracksuit looking concernedly down at her.

"I'm useless, I've wanted nothing else but to come here after hearing about it, I know that I've failed my entrance test- I've let everyone down again." she wept.

Imogen Drill slipped a comforting arm around her, gently reassuring her. "Well, I'm the only non-witch on the staff, and I can't pretend that I don't find it difficult sometimes, but I'm a believer in working hard to get to your goals- if you want to be a witch, then you push until you get there! Teaching PE is certainly not easy in a place where certain people-"she broke off and shot an annoyed look at the potions lab door, "don't believe that allowing girls to do anything other than chant, brew potions, cast spells and fly on those wretched broomstick-contraptions, in short taking part in anything non-magical is deemed as a wasteful way of deploying their time!"

Her green eyes met with Mildred's grey-blue eyes, observing the look of resolve that was slowly beginning to rebuild.

"Come on, lets go and find you something to eat", she said gently.

xxx

Amelia Cackle sat in her office later that day, smiling as she scrolled down the list of potential candidates for places in the forthcoming year- another Hallow! Heavens what a talented family! Although the cold, unsmiling girl with her hair scraped back into a high ponytail had impressed her greatly with her strong overall knowledge of basic magic, there was something that troubled her about her domineering manner that warned Amelia to keep a closer eye on this girl. Her wrinkled finger stopped at another memorable name on the list.

Ah, Mildred Hubble, was she worth the risk? She pondered thoughtfully to herself, weighing up the pros and cons of accepting the girl into Cackles. Constance had snorted in disbelief at the woeful inaccuracies in the girl's paper, circling the umpteen mistakes in blood red ink, her black quill pouncing mercilessly upon the countless errors in front of her. What use was a child who couldn't even master long division! She had hardly given an impressive appraisal of herself or her abilities, yet there was something about the girl that had drawn Amelia back to the list- some of their best witches had come from non-witch families and with a little patience they had more than equalled the abilities of their fellow peers. It was Mildred's creativity that had interested her- what flair to come up with the idea of an arguing, two-headed giant- inspired! Amelia taught spell-casting and enchantments and she was frequently to be heard reminding her students that it was the feelings that one expressed, rather than following the exact wordings that often generated the most desirable effect- spells were an art form, a powerful creative force was needed to master them fully. She sat drumming her fingers indecisively upon the desk- should she take her on?

As if her thoughts had been overheard, Constance Hardbroom materialised noiselessly in the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

"Have you finalised the list of students for next year, Headmistress?" she enquired.

"Well," Amelia paused, considering. "Yes, kindly inform the families that are waiting that all the girls have gained a place!"

"ALL the girls Miss Cackle? Surely Mildred Hubble hasn't been-"

"Mildred will be taken in on our usual temporary basis to allow us to assess her potential further, Miss Hardbroom" interrupted Amelia smoothly.

"But!" Constance's voice had risen at least an octave in outraged disbelief.

"Mildred has shown that she has the creative potential to merit a place at Cackles, and **I **say that she has a place Constance!" reinforced Amelia in a unusually firm tone of voice, asserting her authority for the first time in recent memory.

Constance frowned at being admonished by her superior, "Very well Headmistress, but I am certain that it will all end in tears- that girl is a liability!", and with that she folded her arms stiffly and vanished.

xxx

Mildred had done it! She had been sitting miserably in the Great Hall, waiting to have her suspicions confirmed by the arrival of a furious looking Miss Hardbroom, but all the girls were being offered a place! Pride was coursing through her- for once she had succeeded! She was going to be a witch!

**Ps: This is what I see Bobo as looking like! (take out the spaces in the link) http: /news. bbc. co. uk /1 /hi /in_ pictures /7566541 .stm**


End file.
